Last of Me
by TheDrunkenWerewolf
Summary: Heirverse. And a follow on from my other piece One Tenth and the Decimate trio. (Decimated, 9/10 and 1/10). Gin struggles to exist in a world without his Sun. And wonders whether its best to just let him go. Romance/angst.


Business - don't own bleach. Do own heirverse, though some days I wish I did not.

Illust- deviantart thedrunkenwerewolf/art/Last-of-Me-820391985

Word count- 1617

a/n: follow on from my other piece 1/10 and the Decimate trio. (Decimated, 9/10 and 1/10).

I wrote this one several months ago as I was a bit under the weather at that time. So here's me heavily protecting onto Gin. Please note I have since moved to a much happier place and feel much better.

Notes/warnings: i am the bastard who wrote 'Decimated', 'Crystalline', CWST, Incandescent and 'One Tenth'. And depending on response to it- 'Grand Fisher'. I own a well deserved "tears of my readers" mug. This is phase 4. Get your tissues, I will break you. Unapologetically. And without mercy :)

Enjoy I guess, and please let me know what you think even if it's just "this is garbage, you suck". Alternatively if you liked it tell me what were your favourite parts so I can write more things about those. I promise I don't bite :) Now if you'll excuse me I need to barricade myself in my house before Cat comes for me for breaking her heart (again) with this ship and the heirverse. And have a kraken rum with cola while I'm at it because this drop was heavy.

* * *

_I won't let go of you_

_I'm locked on to the past for you_

_the last of you_

_Can't let go of you_

_I'm locked onto the past for you_

_the last of you..._

_...of me._

_\- Circus P (The Start)_

**Last of Me**

You don't remember me.

The thought bounces around the insides of my skull as I continue my aimless wandering through the white palace. White. The colour of mourning.

Because isn't that what I'm doing? Mourning? Because if this isn't the end of us then it sure does look like it from where I'm standing.

You don't remember me.

Worse, you don't remember us. The past eight decades may as well not have happened, because here I am again, alone in a strange place trying to get by.

Back at the start, again. Lost. Adrift in a sea I don't want to be in without you. But I'm in it. I'm in it and I'm swimming because I refuse to give up and drown (again). I know I should pick myself up, keep fighting, keep looking for you because who knows, you might still be in there somewhere looking for me.

But I can't. My lungs are burning from the effort of just staying afloat. My body's tired. And I really don't think my heart can take another hit like earlier this morning. Of course, I kept myself together long enough to excuse myself and make my escape. And then made it my mission to get as far away from you as physically possible. A hard task when all these white walls feel like a prison. Or a cage.

Because there's nowhere I can go that doesn't remind me of you. The garden. The library. The ramparts and towers. Truly, there is nowhere I can go without reminders of you smashing me in the face.

I can't even look up at the sky, because the sun you made for me is there. You put it there to make me happy, but now it only makes me sad, and my heart sinks further the longer I'm under it. It's tainted now, just like the tea I'll never be able to drink again if your memories don't come back.

A part of me hopes they do. Because I can't be the only one suffering. It's not fair. I'm the only one hurting like this. Feeling lost, like a ship with no anchor. A Moon with no Sun.

Do you feel lost without me? I wonder. Even just a little bit?

Do you look up at the stars – our constellation, Vulpecula – or the sun you created and think of me?

Do I even cross your mind at all?

Because you're in my mind all the time. In fact, you never left it.

Part of me wishes you would though.

I doubt you ever will, because the universe apparently hates me. And you're too remarkable a man to forget. Whoever made you that way should be cursed. Burned for being a witch.

Because every time I think about you now, it just stings, and it hurts, and all it does is make me want to cry.

Because I just don't know what to do without you. I don't know who I an without you. I really don't. You've been a part of my life for so long that I can't help just... feeling like I'm nothing without you. I'm empty. Lost. Hollow. And again the ice is cracking under my feet and I'm struggling to breathe and my chest is so tight and-

I force air into my lungs, force my body to breathe again. Inhale air, oxygen, into my lungs no matter how much it burns. Breathing. Remembering. Existing. How on earth did I do this without you? I don't think I can remember how. I don't even know who I am. Who was I before you?

Was it an empty shell then, too? I have to wonder. Or if I was confident, where's that person gone? Because whenever I look in the mirror now, I don't see him anymore. I don't know where he went. Probably the same place the Old You went, I imagine. And I don't imagine either of them are coming back.

The thought of that threatens to cut off my air again. I'm falling apart piece by piece and there's no way I can stop it.

It hurts.

I wonder if this will be the only way I'll be able to breathe now. With great effort, physical pain, and the feeling that I'm drowning, trapped under a thick sheet of ice.

I also wonder, not for the first time, if I cut the strings holding you to me, would I fall and shatter? But if not cutting you loose it means living like this, and that's what it takes to breathe again, does it even matter?

All those memories of you are fragments much better off lost forever, anyway.

So I might as well.

Because you're not you anymore. You're not my Helios. You're not my Sun. You're not the man I love. Not anymore. I don't think you ever will be again.

Or maybe this is the real you and this really was a twist I never saw coming. Did you ever love me? I don't know. I want to believe it, but how I feel right now I just don't know. Should I keep fighting for you?

I don't know.

I wish I didn't care.

I wish you hadn't left me with a gunshot wound in my heart, all these poisoned memories, and a whole world of pain to live in.

I wish I didn't love you as much as I do, because then maybe I wouldn't be so tired from carrying it all around. My heart's a heavy thing since you blasted a hole in it and pumped it full of lead, and I just want to put it down and forget about it. Put it in a box and lock it up in a shed somewhere and throw away the key into the bottom of a lake somewhere. Or the sea.

I want to.

But I can't.

I can't, and I don't know if I'm strong or weak for not doing so.

I wish someone would tell me.

I make myself move. I can't stay in here, surrounded by memories of you. I walk out, out of the white palace and away into the desert. Away from the glare of the sun you created.

Of course, flash step would be faster, but I want to at least give myself the feeling of distancing myself from this Wrong You.

The wind is brisk, but I don't mind. It's nice to have the illusion of escape, even if just for a little while. I know I'll have to go back eventually – I've got nowhere else to go. But for the moment I'll enjoy the quiet. The solitude. The Silence.

I let my legs take me where they will. Which is out into the Huecco Mundo wastelands. The sky is clear and all the stars are visible, and I tell myself that if I don't look at them I'll be fine. But of course, because I'm an idiot, I do look. And when I see our constellation the sense of vertigo is immediate.

Will everything that gave me joy be tainted now?

I guess it will be.

My heart only hurts with the realisation. You've taken the sun, the moon, and even the stars from me, and I've never felt more alone in my life than I do right now.

I feel like I'm drifting through a fog.

My heart feels heavy.

My lungs want a nap.

My mind wants to rest.

My body just wants to pack it all in and sleep forever.

My soul wants to be turned into a heliotrope so at the very least I can watch my Sun traverse the sky.

I wander on, lost, drifting, aimless through the cold desert. Trying not to look at the cacti for 'warmth' but looking anyway and just feeling the ice inside me spread. Though outwardly I don't feel the chill.

I wonder, if I just kept walking, would I be able to get away from you? Or would you still haunt me and sneak into my dreams.

If I walked far enough, for long enough, would I be able to forget you?

Would I finally be able to let you go?

Because I need to. Some small gnarled part of me already knows that this is the end and is already mourning the loss. Working out what I'll do After you.

Maybe I'll start a new life somewhere, and maybe one day I will write about this place.

I don't know.

I wish I knew.

Who knows. Maybe one day we'll find that place where you and I could be together again. A time where I'll be right for you, and you'll be right for me. And we'll live our lives the way we meant to this time. Openly and honestly.

Until then, I'll try to smile for you and believe we'll meet again.

Until then, I'll be missing you. Like I'm missing you right now. Hot tears slowly rolling down my cheeks. Hurting.

When the fog in my head cleats a little, I find I've come on autopilot to the clusters of quartz trees I was looking at earlier.

I'm staring at myself in the flat mirror-like surface of it, aching anew.

Because no matter how hard I try, I still can't escape you.

I still can't let go of you.

I'm still locked onto the past for you.

The old version of you.

The one I know I should let go of if I ever want to move on.

That One Tenth of you that made you who you were.

That little sliver of hope that I'm still holding onto.

The last of us.

The last of you...

...of me.


End file.
